Lips that would kiss
by Avelera
Summary: The missing sex scenes of "Prayers to Broken Stone", aka "four sex scenes that happened in a parallel timeline, and one that happened in both." Set in the universe of "Prayers to Broken Stone," in which a literal dragon sickness has taken hold of Thorin, eating away at his body as well as his sanity as he slowly transforms into the creature he hates most in the world. ThorinxBilbo


**Author Note: **When I first conceived of "Prayers to Broken Stone" I intended the story to contain mature themes including sex scenes. However, the flow of the story, as well as my own unfamiliarity with writing smut, made me give up on this version in favor of a sex-scene free version of the story. Feedback from various readers who appreciated their lack further confirmed my decision to keep smut out of the story. However, I did also receive feedback from people who were interested in these never-written sex scenes. Now with the time and space needed to write them (smut takes forever for me, and the time taken would have interrupted the posting flow of the original story), as well as more practice at writing such scenes, I can now present to you the "missing" sex scenes from "Prayers to Broken Stone." Though I say "missing" in quotes because really these scenes occupy a parallel timeline in which intimacy sprang up much sooner between Thorin and Bilbo and therefore does not clearly segue back into the canon, as the time it took them to admit loving each other is integral to the plot of the original story.

Understanding this fic requires reading "Prayers to Broken Stone" or I'm fairly certain you will be hopelessly lost. Chapter 1 of "Lips that would kiss" is an alternate scene to ch. 9 of "Prayers to Broken Stone", so you need only have read that far to understand what's happening here.

I was blessed with so many great beta reader offers for this fic, so I'd like to give a shout-out to all of them for their generous help: adventurouskitten, farahsilver, thebakerstboyskeeper, indigoire, and green-chick. Thank you so much for your time and effort, I could not have done it without you.

I wrote this chapter while listening to the song "Home" by Daughter, which I highly recommend as a mood piece of sorts. Long author's note out of the way, please enjoy!

* * *

Is it like this  
In death's other kingdom  
Waking alone  
At the hour when we are  
Trembling with tenderness  
Lips that would kiss  
Form prayers to broken stone.

\- _The Hollow Men_, by T.S Eliot

* * *

The healing salve was cool against his fevered skin, stroked in feathery, soothing circles around the outbreak of scales along his spine. Thorin leaned into the touch despite himself, the muscles of his jaw relaxing as peace washed through him. The scales had not spread further this time as he slept, and were limited to patches on his forearms, chest, and calves, along with the short ridge of spines along his back and slash mark on his left cheek. Yet the discomfort of the transformation was lessened now that he was fed and washed, growing more distant with each stroke of Bilbo's fingers along his back, rubbing ointment into the seam between skin and scales in hopes of slowing the breakage.

Compared to the scales, the sensitivity of his natural skin felt heightened, and each brush of Bilbo's fingertips sent shivers through him like ripples on the water. There was care in the touch of his hand, though Thorin did not dare consider there could be anything else. He only dreamed of it in the concealment of his thoughts, that perhaps more had brought Bilbo here than simple concern, that his blushes and stuttering at the sight of Thorin half-clothed as he went to bathe had been for some reason other than disgust.

Impossible fantasies. Desire was unthinkable, though he may manage to convince himself that friendship was not beyond possibility. Surely if Bilbo did not at least view him as a companion, he would not be down here in the first place. Yet the offer of help, the gentle touch on his skin, and Bilbo's blush at the sight of him were all threatening to coalesce into something more in Thorin's mind. If he had such feelings for another dwarf, it would be a straightforward matter to make his regard known. Yet, he knew from his long exile that other races were not so, and to express his interest where none was reciprocated would be a sure way to lose even the possibility of friendship.

So Thorin remained silent, his eyelids fluttering closed. His mind drifted, the warmth of the fire and the drift of soft hands over his skin taking him elsewhere. With no escape from the disease, and little likelihood he would see the sun ever again, let alone another year, Thorin allowed himself a moment's selfishness within his own mind. That this could go elsewhere, that Bilbo's hand may drift lower, slick and seeking, and the play of the firelight behind Thorin's eyelids conjured scenes of where such teasing may lead.

His iron self-control eased, only a little, and Thorin released a gusting sigh, the stiffness fading from his shoulders. Behind it breathed the faintest echo of the moan that was the result of his imaginings. He would have thought nothing of it, certain he had been discreet, yet a shiver ran through Bilbo at the sound and his hands stopped their movement, coming to rest on Thorin's hips.

Only then did it occur to Thorin that this had gone on far longer than was strictly necessary to spread the ointment to the afflicted portions of his skin. Sweat prickled at Thorin's forehead and his breathing had deepened in relaxation, so that snapping free of his thoughts was like waking from a dream.

"I'm sorry," Bilbo said with a nervous laugh. "This is rather intimate, isn't it? I must have gotten carried away." Yet his hands did not move from their place. "I should probably stop?"

There was something in Bilbo's tone that fit far too well with Thorin's daydreaming, as if he was as unwilling to cease as Thorin was to lose his touch. Thorin cleared his throat, his voice thick when he spoke. "There is no need, unless you wish to."

"Oh." Bilbo paused. His right fingers drummed against Thorin's hip. "It's only you seem tired again, and I, well, I've already taken too many liberties. Forgive me." He went to pull away, and just as his fingers left Thorin's skin, the dwarf reached back, gently catching Bilbo's wrist and turning part of the way back to face him.

"Bilbo," Thorin said, voice low, "I'm not tired." The angle of his body thus changed, Bilbo's gaze drifted downward along Thorin's bare torso. The scales were visible at his forearms and along his cheek, with splotches of grayish skin surrounding the patches on his chest. He knew he must appear a horror, but Bilbo's gaze continued to trail down until it fell upon what Thorin had not, until that moment, thought to conceal.

"Ah…ha…" Bilbo said, and very carefully took his hands away with a sort of absent minded pat on Thorin's shoulder, though he still did not look away. "I'm sorry, just dreadfully…. excuse me."

Thorin sighed, turning back to press the palm of his hand to his eyes. He would have massaged his temples if not for the sharp tips of his blackened fingernails. "Pay it no mind, Master Baggins. It is an involuntary response."

"That's… oh, I suppose that makes sense," Bilbo said, and was that disappointment in his voice? "Nothing to do with me I imagine. Probably not to your taste anyway."

Thorin looked up, puzzled. "I said it was an involuntary response because I am familiar with it. You are the only other person down here, Bilbo. Of course I am reacting to you," Thorin said, brow furrowing because Bilbo still looked like a startled rabbit. He added dryly, "You needn't fear. It is not as if I intend to ravage you. It will pass soon enough."

Bilbo swallowed, but did not move away, and the hand that had reached out to pat Thorin's shoulder remained there, as if transfixed by his words. "Of course? No, no, no! You can't just say 'of course!'" he sputtered, growing shriller with each word.

Thorin straightened, rousing himself fully from the haze of comfort, and frowned. "If apologies will help, then I offer them. I have made my regard for you clear in the past, and if it offends you now, then only say so and I will make an effort not to trouble you further." The last came out more defensive than he intended, but Bilbo had struck a nerve. Rejection was its own blow, but what was worse, he was once again floundering in the overly complex world of social niceties that other races held so highly and dwarves habitually ignored. With no wish to offend Bilbo or drive him off, Thorin felt an infuriating sense of helplessness over how to voice the obvious without treading one of those numerous invisible lines.

"No! It's not…" Bilbo stopped. "Since when?"

Thorin shrugged, relieved to at least be able to resort to honesty. "Soon after the Goblin Tunnels."

Bilbo gaped and Thorin's eyes narrowed, wondering if he had said something to offend, when Bilbo said, "That long?"

"As I said, it is a reaction to your presence that is well known to me," Thorin said, brow furrowing, perplexed by Bilbo's many questions. "I am flesh and blood, after all. Is that so shocking to you?"

"Yes!" Bilbo blurted out, then coughed, and said in a hiss, "Why didn't you _say_ anything?"

"I gave you the most valuable item in the treasury that was mine to give," Thorin said, arching an eyebrow. "I had you at my side when all others had turned against me. I valued your counsel above even my own kin, until I learned of your deceit." Bilbo winced at that. "Tell me, Bilbo, would saying aloud that I desire you in other ways have helped, or would it only have only lost you beyond recall? When faced with that choice, what can any of us do?"

"I cannot believe _you_ would have been worried about that. I've never known you to be afraid of anything, even when you should be," Bilbo said. There was a lightness to his tone that Thorin dared to hope meant the worst was past, and he allowed himself a self-deprecating snort.

"In matters of duty I must be bold, even if my heart wills otherwise. But I am not so… accustomed to making such judgments on my own behalf." He meant it as a simple statement of fact, but something flickered over Bilbo's face, something close to grief. "Is this too surprising? Tell me then, would it have done any good?"

"Would it have…?" Bilbo grinned, one of those false, polite ones, and it fell away, followed by a dizzying array of emotions. Incredulity, suspicion, good humor, and finally flat disbelief. "You would have me believe you did all those things because you wanted me?"

"Is that so very hard to accept?" Thorin said softly. "Or is it merely distasteful to you?"

"Distasteful? No! Only unbelievable," Bilbo said, bewildered. "You're just so… _you_. You're Thorin Oakenshield! You don't want— you can't possibly be interested in— I'm just a hobbit," Bilbo finished weakly.

"Thorin Oakenshield is not so very much if he cannot see the worth of the one who pledged himself to his cause without ties of family or ambition, for no other reason than you wished to see us home," Thorin said, and he did remember then, all those moments before they had been clouded by anger and hurt at the betrayal. But with only the two of them here, and no other great powers or purposes to offer distraction, he wondered how he had ever forgotten it all.

"But that's ridiculous! It's only what any person with half a heart would do," Bilbo said desperately, but Thorin was already shaking his head.

"In over a hundred years, I have never met any outsider with half so much a heart. So tell me, Master Burglar, is it so extraordinary that I fell in love with yours?"

Had he said something wrong? Bilbo was staring at him, stricken and pale as if wounded. Surely he had not misunderstood so much, that a simple statement of the truth could be greeted with such horror?

Or was it the illness? Thorin's gaze could not help but flicker to the puckered scars and blackened scales carved across his body like stains. Would such advances have only been politely dismissed once, but now Bilbo was confronted by an even worse prospect: that of a diseased and fallen dwarf lord's regard for him?

"I have said too much," he managed, his voice fallen to a growl as he struggled to keep it from wavering. "Do not be troubled, you need never hear of it again." The cloak sat folded on the ground beside him, and he thought he might at least cover the ravages of his illness from Bilbo's sight, when Bilbo's hand caught his arm, drawing Thorin to face him.

"Love?" Bilbo said, as if struggling even now. Then in a smaller voice, "You love me?"

Thorin looked down to Bilbo's soft hands wrapped around his scarred forearm, paying no heed whatsoever to the scales. As if he did not see them at all. Thorin looked up again. "Enough that I would keep silent for all the ages and a day, if it meant not putting you in an impossible position."

"Oh, hang that! An impossible _position_?" Bilbo's voice cracked. "Are you mad? Thorin, I've been _sick_ with worry over you, I've been going out of my mind with it! But I've stayed silent, because how could you ever want anything to do with me ever again? I betrayed you and I lied to you, I—" Bilbo's expression crumpled, "I thought it was for the best, but I was so wrong, Thorin, and all those lies and all the pain I caused you were for nothing. I just wanted to save your life, and it was for nothing, and now you're so sick and I thought…" Bilbo looked blank, looked overwhelmed as he looked up at Thorin. "You're not for me. You're too grand. You're a legend, for goodness sake, and I'm just… myself. A liar, a fool, and now a thief, for what turned out to be all the wrong reasons. I thought if I could make up for it in some small way, just see that you're healed so you can see your family again… And now you say you love me and I don't… I don't know what to do with that." Bilbo was shaking his head back and forth, eyes distant.

"Because you don't feel the same way? Or because this legend you imagine is not a person who can feel anything?" Anger rose with each word. There it was again, this distance that had sprung up between himself and all others since Azanulbizar, since he lost his home, and discovered that in the eyes of others that he was no longer a person, but a burnt dwarf, an unfortunate. The urge to say more, to beg and plead to be _seen_, just this once, for who he was rather than what had happened to him, was too great, and too humiliating. Thorin swallowed it back, and looked away. "Bilbo, please, just let it go. I can see the thought is distressing to you."

"Distressing?" Bilbo's hand tightened around him. "Yes, very much so. Thorin, I have loved you so… helplessly and hopelessly… for so long, I'm not sure I remember who I _was_ beforehand. I would follow you on this quest a hundred times over, with no hope of you feeling anything in return, of even noticing I was there, because you see I... already have… once." He looked at a loss, looked stricken and empty, as if saying those words had hollowed him out. "So, to answer your question: yes, it would have helped to know you felt the same."

The same. Not 'that way', but the same. Thorin's breath froze within him. He felt as if he were caught in amber, frozen there with a fault line crackling down the space that separated them. "What would you have done?" he said, lips barely moving as he looked back at Bilbo.

His was still, but his face flickered. In the downward tilt of Bilbo's mouth and the rapid blinking of his eyes, something was happening, something shifting . Thoughts were racing too fast over his face for Thorin to track, but he leaned in closer anyway, trying to follow them and divine something of the mysteries going on behind those eyes between one blink and the next.

Bilbo surged forward, closing the inches between them, sealing his lips against Thorin's. Dry, and uncertain, barely a peck before he broke away, and when he fell back he looked horrified at himself, uncertain and defiant at once.

"That," Bilbo said, tilting his chin up, challenging. "So if you're going to send me away, I suggest you do it right now, because I very much do not want to think about what I just did if I made a mistake."

The amber cracked. Thorin swayed, feeling the protection against the world he had built up within him falling away. He could still taste Bilbo's kiss, the zing of shock in his blood at the contact, so different and yet not from the touches on his skin. He leaned forward, and Bilbo was not pulling away. Indeed, he tilted his head as he met Thorin in the middle, his lips soft and warm.

Still, he did not dare move closer, but Bilbo made the decision for both of them, edging forward until Thorin need no longer bend to kiss him back. Bilbo scooted into Thorin's lap, and Thorin moaned into Bilbo's mouth as he brushed against the indiscretion that had sparked their conversation in the first place. From that moment he was lost, wrapping his arms around Bilbo and drawing him close. Bilbo's arms slid up from where they were trapped, wrapping them around Thorin's shoulders. The smell of mint was overpowering, Bilbo's hands cool with the oil as his fingers tightened around Thorin's shoulders. There was a moment's hesitation, Bilbo's eyes flickering open as he broke the kiss and stared at Thorin as if unable to believe who was before him, breathless with it. Then, as if reaching some further decision, he shifted so he was pushing Thorin onto the bedroll, one palm on his chest.

Thorin fell back, unresisting, too overcome to question or to know what to expect until he was propped back on his elbows and looking up at Bilbo as the hobbit climbed into his lap, capturing his lips again. Grinding down.

Thorin gasped, his head falling back so that Bilbo's lips were hovering now at his throat. Bilbo took advantage of this, sucking kisses down Thorin's throat. His arms shook, his body alight and weak with the rush of it, and Thorin could not keep himself upright, but fell back onto the bedroll. Bilbo moved with him and was now flush against him, lying flat with his hands at Thorin's shoulders, bracing himself as he kissed down to the dwarf's collarbone, stopping just short of his bare chest.

"I just about swallowed my tongue when I saw you like this," Bilbo said, breaking away and tracing a reverent hand down Thorin's chest. "I must have made a fool of myself staring, but it was hard to look away from something so magnificent."

"I thought you were disgusted by the scales," Thorin breathed.

"More shocked at what a brazen tease you were, if you only knew the effect it had…" Bilbo said, punctuating this by pressing against him, his arousal obvious. Then, thoughtfully, "To be honest, I don't think I saw them."

"How could you not?" Thorin said, but Bilbo put a finger to his lips.

"With all this before me? They're not that noticeable, really, and we'll have it mended soon enough. I had other things on my mind, ones I thought quite hopeless. Indeed, I thought I was being terribly obvious." He punctuated the last with a kiss to Thorin's jawline, murmuring in his ear, "Embarrassingly so."

"Then we have both been fools," Thorin said, eyelids fluttering as Bilbo's lips drifted to the shell of his ear. He was so hard it was becoming an agony, and something must be done now or not at all. With great effort, Thorin shifted, putting his hands on Bilbo's shoulder and pushing him back a little ways. Trepidation flickered over Bilbo's face, still so uncertain, but Thorin locked eyes and said, "Bilbo, what would you have of me?"

"In general, or at this very moment?" he said breathlessly.

"Either."

"Everything," Bilbo said, and seemed surprised at his own words, eyes flicking up as he seemed to go over them again in his head, before refocusing on Thorin. "Everything," he said more firmly. "There's so much, I don't know where to begin. Anything you would share with me. I want to see you well again, and I want to aid you however I may, and this time better. All of that, in general, but there is another part of me, much greedier I think, that wants…" he licked his lips, continuing in a rush, "that wants to give you pleasure, to see it." Bilbo flushed and buried his face against Thorin's shoulder, the words coming out muffled. "I can barely say it. Thorin, I want to be the cause of it." His breathing was heavy, fluttering against the oil on Thorin's skin. His own body was on fire with every word, and with Bilbo pressed up against him. Thorin's cock was heavy between his legs and pulsing with the need of it.

"You have me," Thorin said, voice hoarse. He ran a hand down Bilbo's back, stopping at his hip, gripping it. "Take me."

"What?" Bilbo said, going still against him.

"Unless you do not want to," Thorin said, propping himself up a little. "Or if you would rather…"

"No, no, no, no," Bilbo swallowed, shaking his head. "I want it, I just never…" He exhaled a breath, looking dazed. "Never thought to get the chance. You really want _me_ to?"

When had his mouth gone dry? "More than anyone."

Bilbo stared. Then his expression smoothed again, became certain, and he gave a little nod to himself. When he spoke again, all uncertainty was gone, and there was something about the assurance of his voice that sent a pulse through Thorin's already heated blood. "Right. Well, take your trousers off. It's not a bad idea in any case to check for injuries there too." Thorin huffed a quiet laugh at this. Trust Bilbo to consider practicality, even in a situation like this.

Bilbo had to clamber off to give Thorin the freedom of movement, and as he did, the hobbit undressed too, a more involved process by comparison, as Thorin only had trousers to remove. Thorin watched as Bilbo removed the coat, the mithril shirt beneath spilling to the ground like quicksilver behind it, then his shirt and pants. The last went more slowly, as Bilbo visibly struggled with his own hesitation. The sight of Thorin beneath him, stretched out, naked, and very visibly aching for him, must have made the decision because Bilbo shed the rest.

Bilbo looked down at himself. He was thinner than when Thorin first met him at Bag End, and there was new muscle on his shoulders and limbs, but the curve of his stomach was soft, and he ran a hand over it. Bilbo began tentatively, "As I said, I'm not much. Certainly not what your tastes probably lean to…"

Thorin dragged his gaze away from where he'd been staring at Bilbo's body, his mouth watering at the sight of his flushed cock, and gazed up at Bilbo's face. He looked unhappy, a half-frown on his face. Thorin propped himself up, cupping his hand over Bilbo's stomach, tracing it back so he closed it around his hip, and pressed reverent, open-mouthed kiss against it, and another, nuzzling his face close so his breath warmed the skin. He looked up through his lashes at Bilbo, saw him swallow, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"Well, there is that," Bilbo said in a strangled tone.

Thorin smirked, pressing another kiss, along with the flick of his tongue, against Bilbo's stomach. Bilbo huffed out a stuttering breath, cheeks red, before he coughed and steadied it. "I may have thought of this before and I, uh, have some ideas. If that's agreeable to you?"

Thorin raised an eyebrow and lay back, stretching his arms out over his head, luxuriating in the pull of the muscles, the strange and heady feeling of being admired, before he looked up at Bilbo. "I am yours to command."

Bilbo sucked in a breath, staring wildly at Thorin as if he'd been socked in the gut. "Oh no, now that is patently unfair."

"I thought that was the point?" Thorin remarked. He stretched again, back arching as he shifted to a more comfortable position.

"You, oh, you're doing this on purpose!" Bilbo huffed. "I will get you back for that."

"I would very much like to see you try," Thorin said with all sincerity. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Bilbo licked his lips, looking uncertain and off-kilter. "Well, I thought, maybe, you could turn over?" he said, and picked up the vial of oil, fidgeting with it between his hands before giving Thorin a questioning look.

Thorin's breath caught in his throat, such that he could only keep his expression neutral as he nodded, turning over onto his stomach, with his head cradled in his arms. It was immediately more comfortable without the spines digging into his back. Bilbo shifted to kneel beside him, pouring a dollop of the oil into his hand and spreading it in a wide streak across Thorin's back.

Thorin sighed, his head settling onto his arms at the sensation. This time he need not hide his enjoyment, and he shifted beneath Bilbo's hand, making small, appreciative noises with each touch. Only this time, Bilbo swept lower, running a hand down Thorin's lower back and over the curve of his arse. Thorin shivered, shifting his legs apart.

"Oh my," Bilbo swallowed, working his hands over and between the cheeks. Thorin twitched, grinding his cock into the bedroll, as Bilbo's fingers dipped between, teasing at his entrance. Thorin made a sound at the back of his throat, burying his face against his arms. "I thought, well, I suspected, but this is so much better."

"Than what?" Thorin said. His face was heated, and not from the fire. Bilbo did not hesitate, but poured more oil and continued a slow, gentle massage between his thighs, running his finger back and forth over the entrance, causing Thorin to shiver from crown to toe.

"Anything I imagined," Bilbo said. He leaned in closer, putting one hand on Thorin's back to brace himself, and pressed a kiss to Thorin's shoulder. "You're so much more beautiful than I dreamed."

"Bilbo?" Thorin said, looking up and back at him. Bilbo's expression was soft in the firelight, and there was no mistaking the admiration in his eyes. He could see the heat and appreciation in Bilbo's gaze, despite the discolorations that darkened his skin and nails like shadows. Perhaps they were invisible in the flickering firelight, perhaps Bilbo truly did not mind them, and if he did not mind then Thorin too might forget for a little while. He let himself ease back, warmth kindling within him at Bilbo's words, at his touch.

"There, now just stay lovely and relaxed, hmm?" Bilbo said softly, teasing with the first finger. Thorin shuddered, releasing a deep breath, and forcing his body to ease further. Bilbo was liberal with the salve, slicking his finger as he worked it in and out. There was a familiar burn and stretch, but Thorin's body was alight. It was all he could do to keep from pushing back on to it, a corner of his mind still struggling to process that _Bilbo_ was taking him, making love to him, gently working him open to— Thorin moaned deep at the back of his throat, brow furrowing as sweat began to prickle along his body at the thought.

"Just listen to you," Bilbo marveled. "You really want this."

"I want _you_," Thorin gasped against his arm. The hand stilled, and when Thorin looked back to discern the cause, he saw Bilbo's lips were parted as he looked at him.

Catching Thorin's glance, Bilbo shook himself. "Right. Perhaps one day I'll get over how extraordinary that is."

Before Thorin could protest, draw Bilbo over and ask in bewilderment what Bilbo meant, why he continued to act as if he was somehow beneath Thorin's notice, a second finger joined the first. Thorin groaned, and now with the leverage Bilbo was able to reach deeper within and find the spot that made Thorin lose all control, crying out and grinding back against Bilbo, eyes screwing shut as shivers raced along his skin.

"Please, Bilbo, _please_," Thorin gasped, knowing it was too soon still, but another shudder raced through him, erasing all thought. Bilbo leaned in again, pressing kisses from Thorin's shoulders down his spine, lingering at the small of his back so that his breath tickled the skin as his fingers continued their gentle work. Thorin was more than hard now, his cock was dripping as he rubbed himself into the bedroll, seeking friction, seeking anything as his mind imagined what was to come. Bilbo's hand on him, Bilbo inside of him, touching him everywhere, gasping his own pleasure… Thorin whimpered, and heard an answering sigh from Bilbo, the press of heat against his thigh. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Bilbo was leaning against him, his own lips parted and his face flushed with desire. The hot skin against Thorin's hip was Bilbo's cock, the underside digging into his hip, the head damp as Bilbo looked down at Thorin beneath him, his left hand braced on his back, fingers stroking idly along Thorin's skin. Thorin breathed out a sigh as Bilbo reached over, pouring more of the oil as he slid a third finger in.

Thorin cried out, a broken, creaking sound, his fingers twisting in the bedroll. Bilbo struck the spot again, wrenching another groan from deep within his chest, a sobbing, half-choked sound.

"Very glad we're the only ones here right now," Bilbo said wryly, voice nevertheless hoarse. "Or I'm sure the whole mountain could hear."

"Do you wish me to be silent?" He was no stranger to close quarters and the need for quiet. Only this time, he had been carried away, the burn of need so much greater for it being one he'd wanted so long, blurring his thoughts to all but the desire coursing through his veins.

"Don't you dare," Bilbo warned. "These are the loveliest sounds I've heard in my life. I'm not about to ruin them with restraint. Just stay relaxed. Do whatever makes you comfortable, whatever you enjoy. We're very close."

"_Fuck_, Bilbo," Thorin gasped, speech rapidly abandoning him. He drove back onto the delicious press of those fingers, feeling Bilbo twist them again, driving them against the spot that made him muffle a howl into the crook of his arm. His blood had become fire, all thought blank except need, sparks skittering across his skin and behind his eyelids.

"I know," Bilbo said, and kissed Thorin's back again. "Believe me, I know."

Thorin shuddered and shivered through the final minutes of Bilbo's patient, attentive work. Where he was, or who, had narrowed to only the feel of Bilbo's fingers inside him, to the need for more, the ache in his groin and how he felt as if he were only a being made of fire and need, thoughts soaked with desire, ruined, until he felt those fingers slowly retract. He gasped, the shock of being so empty where once he had been full racing through him, only to feel a soothing hand trace along his back.

He heard once more the glug of the salve as Bilbo slicked himself. Thorin tensed in anticipation as Bilbo shifted, taking his place between Thorin's thighs. He smoothed a hand over Thorin's well-oiled back, his tip teasing at the entrance but no more. "Are you ready?" Bilbo said. "If you want me to stop, I will." The last was breathless and strained, but he made no move to force himself forward, only hesitated there until Thorin realized muzzily that he was being called upon to speak.

"Bilbo, _now_," Thorin snarled, lifting his hips to push back. He heard the gasp as Bilbo's fingertips clutched his hip, and he released his own as the tip slid in. Achingly slow, it took him a moment to realize Bilbo was letting him control the depth and speed, and when he looked back he saw Bilbo's eyes were scrunched closed and his teeth dug into his lower lip. He was shaking with the effort to keep himself still, to let Thorin choose the pace, and much as Thorin would have liked to, he knew could not go much faster. Inch by inch, he lowered himself back until Bilbo was fully inside him and he released a pent-up gasp. His hair fell around face, chest heaving as he took in how _good_ it felt, how _right_, how…

"You can move," Thorin gritted out.

Bilbo exhaled, and tentatively closed his other hand around Thorin's hip so he was holding on to him with both and shifted. The first stroke was clumsy, the second more assured, and he whimpered at the back of his throat. "Oh, Thorin… what was wrong with us? Why didn't we do this sooner? I just…_ah_… Thorin, what can I do? How can I make it better for you?" His voice was strained but his movements were steady and achingly slow, opening Thorin further until it was an easy slide.

"That. Don't stop." Thorin looked back over his shoulder as he said it, and lust surged through him at the sight of Bilbo's face crumpled in passion and the ache of pleasure that went through his body as he brushed that sweet spot. Bilbo's hips rolled against his, slow and steady as a tide, until Thorin was bucking and writhing beneath him, and his imaginings came back to him, of what he had thought when Bilbo had run gentle fingers over his back. It had been very close to this, but the reality made the fantasies pale. He pressed hot kisses against Thorin's shoulders, drawing little answering moans from Thorin. It overwhelmed his mind as well as his body, this feeling of being cherished, being adored and made love to after so long of being alone, of being untouchable, and every doubt was swept away by the light of it.

Then Bilbo's hand snaked under him, to the space afforded by Thorin's elevated hips, and soft fingers wrapped around his aching cock.

Thorin gave a muffled sob, bucking hard back onto Bilbo's cock, and the movement made Bilbo's slick hand move back and forth along him. He whimpered, pushing again. "Fuck, _fuck_, oh fuck, Bilbo, _that_, do that," he breathed, giving another wrenching cry as Bilbo obeyed. There was no rhythm or elegance to it - Bilbo was too lost in his own pleasure for steadiness - but Thorin's eyelids fluttered as the pleasure jumped, the muscles of his abdomen trembling, heat pooling in his loins as the pace grew quicker, Bilbo's gasps hoarse and ragged behind him. Beneath them were muffled, broken off words. _So lovely, just… so…you're beautiful. Do you know how often I dreamed of this? How often I imagined you, how badly I wanted to touch you, but I never thought, never dared…_

The idea that this might be true, that Bilbo had imagined him as well, admiring Thorin from afar, touching himself in the dark of night with Thorin's name on his lips, tilted him over the edge. Thorin gave a low, helpless sob as his pleasure peaked, spasming through his entire body as he saw Bilbo touching himself in his mind, while in reality his hands stoked down Thorin's length such that made him tremble, driving him instinctively to push back harder. Bilbo's hand sped up, drawing out every shivering pulse of his orgasm until the pleasure of it flared and his mind went gloriously blank, save for the feel of Bilbo inside him, the heat of his pleasure, and the smell of the mint.

The clench of his body around Bilbo dragged an answering cry from him , this one more of a whimper and a hiss as his movement grew frantic, his hand falling from Thorin's softening cock to dig once more into his hips. The force of it sent shivers of aftershock through him as Bilbo cried out and spilled, heat pulsing inside him, once, twice the motions slowing with a shuddering breath.

For a moment, there was only a dazed stillness before Bilbo carefully slid himself out to prevent the ache from building, and as soon as he did Thorin went limp, too dazed to care anything for the mess, his body tingling in the aftershocks.

"There's water, and I can clean us…" Bilbo began.

"In a moment," Thorin said, voice thick. He reached back, coaxing Bilbo to lie down in the crook of his arm beside him. The hobbit obliged, nestling against Thorin's chest, his skin just beginning to chill from the sweat as Thorin hugged him close.

"That was… that was…" Bilbo sighed, unable to find the words.

"Mmm," Thorin agreed, nuzzling against Bilbo's neck.

"I hope you enjoyed it?"

"Mmm." To say more would be an understatement. Even the relaxation of his sleep upon the gold could not compare, all tension Thorin hadn't known he was carrying falling away as he held Bilbo against him. That thin layer of uncertainty that had separated them as if by a pane of glass had fallen away, and Thorin held him skin to skin. There was no urgency, no drive to be anywhere but here. To let the world turn outside without them. "You?" he murmured, eyelids drifting closed as he took in Bilbo's scent beneath the mint, tasting salt against his lips as he pressed close, breathing it in.

"Hnngh, I think I found a better use for my fourteenth share."

Thorin smirked against him. "I should like to think I am not so easily bought."

"It would not be enough gold in any case," Bilbo replied, and then paused, gusting out a sigh. "It was wonderful, Thorin. You are wonderful. I never thought it possible for anything to feel that good, or for you to want me at all."

The fires within now settling, it still felt as if he was lit within by the gentle glow of a candle as Thorin pressed a kiss to the shell of Bilbo's ear. "One day I must get to the bottom of this belief that you are beneath my notice."

"Is it _really_ that hard for you to understand?" Bilbo said, half turning until Thorin freed a hand to ease him back.

"Let us only say that I do not give away mithril lightly," Thorin murmured

"Well, indeed, as a gift from you it is priceless, but I fail to see how that's relevant."

Thorin frowned, brow furrowing, and he opened his eyes. "Bilbo, that shirt is worth more than your fourteenth share in gold and jewels alone."

He felt as much as saw the tremor go through Bilbo as he jolted in Thorin's arms, yelping, "What? Thorin, the expense!"

"It is of little account. It was mine to give to whom I will," Thorin said. His muscles felt languid, and while he'd already slept long enough for two days' rest, he still felt very little urge to move, much less calm an excitable hobbit.

"But—!"

"Shhh," Thorin said, running his hand down Bilbo's arm, pulling him closer.

"Fine then, but this is not the last you've heard of this. And that aside, we really shouldn't linger too long. I got an idea from the books on how we might tackle this illness."

"I think I prefer your earlier ideas," Thorin teased. "Shhh, I understand. Later."

"Thorin…"

"Later, Bilbo, it will keep," Thorin said, and finally felt Bilbo subside next to him. He still gave a huff of frustration, but it seemed half-hearted as he burrowed closer.

Thorin closed his eyes again, letting his mind drift in peace. For now, all he wanted was to hold Bilbo against him and linger in this place between waking and sleeping. Here, where time had no meaning, and for once all that he desired was safe within his arms.

* * *

**Author Note: **Remember to check out my "Lips that would kiss" tag on Tumblr for my posts about the fic, or just come by the blog to cry about Bagginshield with me at Avelera. tumblr. com

Thank you for reading! Hours of work went into this fic and it would mean ever so much to me to hear what you think so far. Even the smallest comment can change the course of this author's day 3


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